


Crossed Wires

by jabraille



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jabraille/pseuds/jabraille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mere minutes before the show, a certain automaton has gone... haywire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossed Wires

The Jon sidled into the doorway. “You two ready?”

“Not quite.” The Spine pointed at Rabbit. “He’s a robot.”

A cheeky grin parted his lips. “Oh, that’s deep, The Spine. Got any other startling revelations?”

“I’m serious. He’s a robot.”

The Jon cocked his head at a sharp angle. “So am I. So are you.”

“I am not!” insisted The Spine.

Rabbit lurched upright and to one side. “It’s no good, The Jon,” he said glumly. “He plugged an mp3 player into his axillary port. I think it must’ve reactivated one of his old spy programs.”

“Uh-oh.” The Jon peered into The Spine’s left eye, which winked in disturbingly lifelike fashion. “Reminds me of when I got my finger stuck in a wall socket. For the next three hours, I thought I was a toaster.”

Rabbit’s head ratcheted over. “Is that why you’ve been keeping bread inside your shirt?”

“Er... yeah, let’s go with that.” He coughed; a tendril of steam coiled off his tongue. “C’m’on, The Spine, snap out of it! We’ve got a show to put on!”

“If it’s a show you want,” The Spine declared, “it’s a show you’ll get! –That is, for the right price.”

“How much for supporting vocals on ‘Brass Goggles’ ?”

The Spine’s black lip curled. “What do you take me for—some kind’a vaudeville performer?”

“This is hopeless,” wheezed Rabbit, clattering forward. “We’ll just have to go on without him.”

“Nothing is hopeless so long as we’re alive!” countered The Jon robustly. “You’re not dead, are you, Rabbit?”

“No...”

“How ‘bout you, The Spine?”

“I’m still breathing.”

“You _wish_. –All right, Rabbit, let’s see that musical doodad.”

With the clank and squeak of uncooperative gears, Rabbit seized The Spine’s wrist and moved his unresisting arm upward. A wire snaked from the underarm of his fine black suit into his trouser pocket. “Thar she blows!”

The Jon reached into The Spine’s pocket, despite the latter’s mild protestation. His fingers tickled the device; then he looked up expectantly.

After a moment, he sighed. “I was _sure_ that would work...”

Arching an eyebrow, The Spine opened his mouth to retort. However, what he emitted was a honky-tonk three-part vocal harmony: “What is life? / And what is real? / And why do living things need feeeeeliiiiings...”

The Jon promptly did a little dance of glee.

“You did it!” crowed Rabbit. His mismatched eyes flickered uncertainly. “Only... he’s doing _all_ our parts... and all the instruments...”

The Spine snapped his jaw shut; in the ensuing silence, the three automatons gazed at each other pensively.

“I guess we’re lip-synching today,” The Jon concluded at length. “Mister Human The Spine, we’d like to hire you to stand onstage with your mouth open.”

“How much?”

“What say you to... five hectares per milliliter?”

“Deal.” They shook hands on it solemnly.

“But how’re we going to _fix_ him?” hissed Rabbit.

The Jon winked. “After the show, I’ll test out the therapeutic value of a hammer applied to the cranial plate.”

“Oh, dear. I foresee explosions.”

“Here’s hoping!”


End file.
